The Once Future King: Part I: The Boyhood
by EvelMyst
Summary: Greg is the last living heir to the Northern Kingdom's throne. When the Royal Family was slane, Olaf drops young Greg off with the Stokes. SLASH NG
1. Chapter 1

**The Once Future King**

**By: Evelmys**

Part One: The Boyhood

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Chapter One:

A Child Called Gregory

--

There was nothing odd about Spade, Texas. It was the typical West Texas small town. There was no reason why anything odd would ever happen in this small town of one-hundred people. Everything was just as it should be, except the car idling just past the town square. Sitting in the driver's seat sat a rather peculiar man called Olaf Sanders. In fact, he had never before been seen in this town. He sat there squinting through aged spectacles, nose-deep in a map. A soft hum escaped his lips as the nearly grayed man put the car back in gear and continued down the narrow country roads.

One, two, three, he counted as the miles on his odometer increased until he was certain he had come to the right place. "Yes, this must be it," said the old man talking plainly to the only listening person in the car: him. Down the gravel driveway, scraping along the narrow lane lined with sage, he drove deep into the man's cotton plantation until the soft silhouette of a rather fancy house appeared in his sight.

The ancient car slowed to a stop in front of the old plantation home. The car door flung open and the man slid out and hobbled on his gimpy leg to the other side of the car. There he stood looking aged and saddened, dreading the task which he must do. There was no other choice for the once proud old man. He opened the door and took the small child bundled up in soft blue blankets into his arms. The man smiled softly at the sleeping baby limping to the front door where he laid him down softly. All his love rested with this little boy, this little prince, who now slept in the night on a stranger's porch with a note pinned to his chest.

--

Mr. Stokes was proud to say that he had everything any respectable gentleman aspired to obtain. Yes, William Stokes had everything he ever desired, a beautiful wife, five strapping boys, a luxurious plantation house, a respectable career in the family tradition of the legal system and in pretty good relations with his family and the family wealth. Yes indeed, the Stokes's had everything they would ever need and then some.

Every morning Bill began his day just the same as he began every day. He'd wake up on the third ringing of his alarm and roll over to kiss his wife Jillian before disappearing into the bathroom to shower and shave the morning stubble off his chin. Yes, the honourable Stokes had perfected this routine to a finely tuned machine that never failed.

However, this was no ordinary day for this West Texas judge. No, this was definitely no ordinary day. The moment he stepped out onto the porch, his life as he knew it, would change. For there before his very feet lay an infant bundled up in a blue blanket with a note laid with care upon his chest. The judge looked down upon the boy with some pity before taking the note into his grip and read,

_ i "Dearest hono__urable Mr. William Stokes of the small West Texas town of Spade,_

_It is with my deepest regrets that our paths should cross in this darkest hour. Unfortunately, time is running low for pleasantries and for the finer things in life. I am of considerable age and of considerable wealth,_ _and with the twilight of my life upon me. I am in no position to raise this poor boy. I ask it of you, if your heart is big enough, to take this boy in and treat him as your own son. He has not a name, but he carries the hopes of his people. He is their ever-shining beacon and their last true heir to their kingdom. The house of his father was ransacked and those pertaining to his family murdered. He was barely rescued and brought out under the cloak of shadow. This boy is the last of the line. Keep him hidden and keep him safe, because there are several shadows growing in the east, breeding many men of evil temperament to serve their befallen and latent dark ruler of days of old. They are loyal to him, though he is long since burned to ash in the wind. These loyalists will carry out his will and destroy the houses of Sanders and Hojem. These two names should not follow him, for these loyalists will be drawn to him. Keep his true lineage secret and keep it safe, until he is of course of age. For your cooperation, I assure you that you will fall to our good graces of quite a large sum of wealth. Nowhere near as much as you may like, but enough to sustain your privileged way of life a bit longer I dare say. Please take him in, love him as your own, and keep him safe. _

_Sincerely, _

_Olaf Sanders_

_P.S. I will be watching." /i _

With ulterior thoughts dancing through his crooked head he leaned over, took the small child into his arms, and carefully brought him inside.

"Greg, yes that is what I shall call you my son. Greg Sanders Stokes," he spoke plainly to himself. "Little Greg Stokes," he repeated it several more times, letting the name roll smoothly off his tongue.

He carried the infant boy back to the bedroom where Jillian still lay asleep. Gently, he woke her with a soft nudge. "Hun?" she asked rubbing the sleep now matted in her eyes. "What is it?"

There was no doubt as to the task at hand when he handed the tiny bundle of the lost heir to his beautiful wife.

"Where did he come from?" bravely asked Jillian, perfectly aware her husband hated questions.

"Don't ask questions," snapped Bill. "He will be living with us. Prepare a room." That was of course his final word on the subject before he left the room with the slam of the door.

The baby called Gregory was precious to Jillian who took very good care of him. From the moment that she saw the bright-eyed boy, she was in love. She called in the maid and asked her to watch the baby and to not to ask questions about the boy. The maid thought it was a strange request, but she didn't argue with the mistress of the house and cared for the boy just the same as she would for any of their five boys.

The furnishings were all bought and now the only problem at hand was where to put the baby furnishings. The only problem was which room to use. They had a large house and a large family, and each room was utilized. Jillian knew her husband well and knew that he would never approve of turning any filled room into a nursery, and she had a feeling their room was far out of the question. So, when she found the attic, a large empty space covered in dust and cobwebs, it seemed like the only solution to the question pondered.

Another outing was in store, as she took the baby boy to the paediatrician. She sat there with little Greg as the doctor looked him over humming softly to himself. Her heart nearly skipped three beats, when he took a slow breath in after an extended release of oxygen. "What is it?" she asked, her heart beating frantically. When the doctor told her that she had a perfectly healthy about seven-month-old baby boy the relief was tangible throughout her body.

She went to the hardware store, and picked up dry wall, nails, caulk, and some paint. Her vision of the nursery wasn't very complicated. It was rather simple, install the dry wall, caulk it, paint it, mop the floors, and pull in the baby furniture. That was literally all this project of hers would cost her.

Most of the day was devoted to the room where her newly acquired son would stay. A child she knew her husband Bill would never truly accept. In fact, she quite got the impression that there was money involved, a high amount of money to add to the burning fire of envious greed. Her husband was a kind, stern man, with set rules about him. She loved him, and she was really the only one he ever let into his heart. Even to his five sons, he was nearly cold, and even worse, his expectations for them were nearly sky high. She couldn't argue with him. That was practically rule number one, no asking questions, no arguing when the law has been laid.

She knew that she could never ask questions about this boy. She suspected her husband to know a little about the boy. So silently, she wondered where he came from and who his parents were. But she never dwelled too much on it. Those facts were going to be forever lost. One of those secrets her loving husband Bill would never divulge. It was just the way things were.

She could argue, but there was no point. Judge Bill Stokes always got his way. And that is how it would remain.

--

The years progressed and Jillian found it increasingly hard to treat the boy according to Bill's wishes. He would like her to treat him as if he were a servant or a slave of sorts, maybe even a pet with an ill temperament. It was a request that she could not fulfil. He was more than a pet or a servant to her. To her, he was her son, her flesh, her blood, and she loved him dearly.

In the mornings when Bill would leave for the courthouse, Jillian would watch as his car left the drive before going against his very wishes. When he had left for the day, she would quickly walk up the rickety pull-down stairs to Greg's attic bedroom and bring him downstairs to play with Nicolas and John's toys.

She couldn't stand to keep him locked up in that room all day long. It was a firm belief of hers that boys needed to have room to run around and be boys. It wasn't natural for him to be shut away like a naughty child for doing absolutely nothing.

The day was bright and sunny, not too hot, but just a perfect spring day. Greg was now at the age of four and a rather inquisitive little boy. She would later describe him as a creative artiest erecting magnificent artwork out of his brother's leggos. While she loved to watch him build things and tear them down, she couldn't stand to see him sitting indoors. Not when there was such a beautiful day out doors. Though, she knew perfectly well her husband would never approve of her letting him do such external things.

Watching him erecting a tall skyscraper in the living room, she took out a small yellow ledger, and wrote a short note to her dear husband. She explained to him that she had some errands to run and she took "the boy" as Bill preferred to call him nowadays with her.

"Where are we going?" asked Greg, full aware on how rare these outings were. In fact, they were so rare that he had only gone outside the property of the house no more than three times prior to this day.

"To get you something," smiled Jillian. Oh, she was going to pay for this dearly, but she couldn't stand to see this boy have nothing to call his own. It wasn't right. So, she took him to a horse ranch just south of Lubbock so he could pick out his very own horse. All her other boys had their own and she wanted Greg to be no different.


	2. Chapter 2

TheOnce Future King  
Part One: The Boyhood

Chapter Two:  
Life on the Ranch

--

Greg walked around the fenced pasture looking at all the different horses. After several trips around the fence, he finally picked his horse out. It was a rich dark brown horse with a black tail and just a white star in the middle of his breast. The horse was magnificent.

She paid the man with cash and instructed him to hold on to the horse for a few days as she smoothed things over with the husband. The horse dealer didn't argue with her and the transaction was completed.

To this date, this was the first real gift that Greg had received and he was sure it was going to be the last in quite a while, so he cherished the gift dearly.

--

When Greg was seven he was still being home schooled by Jillian. There were two reasons for this Greg reckoned. Jillian couldn't stand for him to be taught by the teacher she called that 'old hag,' and she knew that Greg would have never gotten out of that attic room of his if he had to spend all day at that dreaded institution of a public school. She hated it deeply, but that was the way it had to be.

Her lessons were long and tough, for she wouldn't have his education slacking on the account of her teaching him. It was a Tuesday morning and Jillian had given him a rare day off. However rare they were, though, this wasn't the first time he had been given the run of the plantation. Jillian was very strict and threatened severe punishments for wandering off the property. Greg never understood this, but he complied nonetheless because he hated the attic and loved it outside.

Walking around, Jillian having just pulled out of the drive, he puckered his lips and whistled loudly calling his horse to him. "There you are boy," his eyes glistened with gleeful happiness as his horse Hope slowed from the gallop to a slow walking stride. In the barn, the horse followed him as he walked to the back closet to find his riding tack. In the working area of the barn, his horse stood perfectly still and docile as Greg worked Hope over with the curry and the dandy brushes.

To anyone looking in from the outside, it would appear that Greg was the perfect little boy. He was well mannered and very open about everything. The truth though, was much graver than that. No one knew that outside of Jillian, his glossy-brown stallion he called Hope was the only other life he loved. The sad truth was that Greg never was close to this family. For the most part, he was the invisible child and Bill kept it like that. It was against Jillian's wishes for sure, but she never questioned him on it. He was closest to Jillian who had grown very fond of him. In fact, she truly thought of him as her own son. If he were to ever have a mom, it would have been her. He called her mom once, and she smiled, so he called her that a few more times and accidentally made the mistake of calling her by that term in Bill's presence and was spanked pretty hard for it. So he continued to call her Jillian.

He wasn't very close with any of the boys since most of them went to the most expensive prep schools in the state, and lived in the dormitories on the campuses. Greg had hardly met any of them except during the long hot summer months, and the holiday season. Normally, he was locked up in the attic, while they were downstairs enjoying the time off. Oftentimes, he would watch them from the window in the attic, as they wrestled and laughed and talked about girls. They even poked fun at the youngest for not having one. If there were a child of the Stokes that Greg felt closer to than the rest, it was Nicholas.

On that day, Jillian's car returned to the drive with two bodies in it. On Jillian's the other was Nick. Greg's eyes widened, as his heart beat faster watching Nick slide out of the vehicle. He wasn't supposed to see him like that. He wasn't supposed to see him in a glowing radiance of shimmering gold and silver sparkling lights dancing around him. He wasn't supposed to see his saddened eyes that swallowed him up into the depth of the soul. He wasn't supposed to see Bill Stokes's children at all, and especially not that way.

He watched with curiosity as Nick walked over towards him with that saddened expression melting away. Nick was by far Bill's favorite son. He was the youngest, the most ambitious, the most athletic, and everything Bill Stokes considered good qualities to have in life. Greg thought Bill put too much pressure on the young child. However, anything that Greg thought, he kept it silent, and he was of course the invisible child and as long as things stayed that way life was livable.

Those brown eyes were saddened, nowhere near cheered up by Jillian's fetal attempts to do so. His head was down as he walked towards Greg, who really didn't know too much of the boy. He puckered his lips and whistled quite loudly for the white Mare he called Jasper. She came to him in a hasty gallop and slowed to a stop within his arms reach. He too saddled up his horse and joined Greg who had already mounted.

"Follow me," recommended Nick spurring his horse to a gallop. Greg quickly followed him down the path to the cotton fields. Bill continuously threatened them for running their horses through the crop of cotton, but on this day that was the last thing that crossed their minds. They galloped through the rows of the knee-high cotton now in bloom.

They ran to the thicket of trees that just beyond was a small water hole full of minnows and crawdads. They took two sticks and some hooks and string Nick had brought and tied them all together and fished for a bit. The natural sounds surrounding them were a comfort, especially for Nick.

--

Nick had had it. The pressure of his life had become too much. Being his dad's favorite son had certainly worn him thin. For months now, it had become too much, as he continuously failed in everything his dad had arranged for him. He was given the best schooling, the best athletic coaches; the best of care money could buy. Most of all, Nick was tired of daddy-dearest planning out everything for him.

The worst thing about it was that Bill had Nick's life planned out. There was nothing he could do about it, not a damn thing. He was to go to the finest private and prep schools. He would go then to the best university at the school of Texas Agriculture and Mathematics down in College Station. It was an honorable school, and nothing less than the best would have suited his son. It was also planned for him to study criminal justice and for him to go into law enforcement with the rest of the family.

There was a hopeless feeling knowing there was little to nothing Nick could do about his father's wishes for him. He oftentimes expressed his frustrations through other means. Getting expelled from the fancy prep school was only the latest episode in his rebellion against the overly controlling and rather stern man that was his father. It wasn't the first time he had been kicked out of a prep school. This was actually the third prep school he was booted from.

Being with Greg was probably the best days he could remember. They never had much time to spend together, when dearest dad was home he was locked either in his room, down eating dinner with them or out in the field with the servants working. Though Greg was treated as a servant or in Nick's opinion he wasn't treated any better than a slave working for a fruitless labor. Though his dearest dad viewed Greg as a servant, he never did let him do the every day housework. Dad would have never allowed the boy to go rummaging through their personal affects. This never made sense to Nick, though there was little he could do about it.

To Nick, Greg seemed rather fascinating and he enjoyed spending his rarely found free time with him. He always would tell some outlandish story brewed up from his wildly overactive and very vivid imagination. However, it didn't matter to Nick. He knew all the stories were hogwash, but he still enjoyed hearing them.

It might have been because his dad made him out to be some servant kid. It might have been that Nick never spent much time with him. Whatever the reason behind the strange occurrence, Nick never really thought about him as a brother. Instead, Greg was more like a friend to him, a very good very loyal, very funny friend. Now, they had lived together since Greg was one and Nick three, but Nick never thought of the boy as a brother. In fact, Bill wouldn't allow him to think of Greg in such ways.

Nick couldn't explain it, but he seemed more attracted to Greg than even friends are concerned. He never voiced this, of course, his dad with his pride and controlling ways would have beaten him if he ever made a comment like that. After what he had said to the queer folk down in Houston a few summers back, he realized then that there must be something wrong with them. Maybe it was unnatural to show affection towards a person of the same gender. But, if something was so wrong, how could it feel so right? When Nick saw Greg, sitting on the banks of the pond, dipping that hook repeatedly into the water, there was some spark of interest there. Something inside his body was changing as puberty was starting to hit him. According to his father's actions, he was afraid those changes were unnatural. This all added up to him as nothing more than one gigantic failure.

None of that mattered on this day, Nick and Greg were down by the watering hole fishing digging up crawdads making bear traps and climbing trees. There wasn't a gigglier group if you could find them. They rode around challenging each other to races and Greg won quite easily. There far up into the fields they ran through the dirt as the sun began to sink low into the sky.

"We best put the horses away before you get into trouble," said Nick. If there was one thing Nick hated more than anything else, it was how dad treated Greg. He never treated him bad, or beat him silly or anything like that as far as he could tell. It was more of a passive neglect. He wasn't permitted to the same privileges Nick was. He questioned him on it once, and he was promptly sent to bed without dinner. If it weren't for mom sneaking food up late after dad had turned in for the night, he would have gone to bed hungry that night.

* * *

To Be Continued... 

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

** The Once Future King:  
Part One: The Boyhood**  
An **EVELMYS** Story

Chapter III:  
Just one big disappointment

--

* * *

The clock was ticking four-forty-five, and dad always came home promptly at five-o'clock. There was never a day Nick could recall that his dad ever arrived early. He told Greg to get to his room and to look busy. He told him not to worry that he would take care of the horse, remove the tack, and set the horse free.

He watched Greg run away to the house maybe a few moments longer than necessary, but that boy still captivated him in ways he never understood.

"Going for a ride?" said dad walking up to the fence. There wasn't a bit of happiness to be found in the stern face of the judge who Nick called dad. His eyes told him everything, entire novels of information, and shivers trickled down his spine in response.

"I was just getting back," answered Nick rather dully.

"I know what happened today, Poncho. I know you got expelled again. I SWEAR IT BOY IF I SEND YOU TO ONE MORE FUCKING PREP SCHOOL AND YOU GET YOURSELF EXPELLED AGAIN IT WILL BE THE DEVIL TO PAY FOR THE WHIPPING I WILL GIVE YOUR ASS. Now, get to the house and do your chores, before I change my mind and whip you now," he instructed. Nick said nothing to the old man. His message was loud and clear, and it hurt Nick on so many different levels.

There was a time when Nick wanted to be just like dad. He wanted to be as tall as he was, as commanding and noble as he was. He wanted to have authority in the world just like he. But the older he got the more he saw his dad was nowhere near the noble knight mounted on a white galloping steed, lance in hand to save the princess. Now that he was older, and his eyes opened just a little bit further. Nick saw his dad to be a knight wearing rusty armor with a rotten disposition, a bully by all standards, and on top of all that, he couldn't even ride.

His head hung low as he walked towards the house. His eyes shut for a length of time and it was all he could do not to go insane. "Go do your chores, 'fore your dad gets a chance to crack that whip," said mother Jillian. It was Nick's job every evening to clean the house. Jillian was a really good housekeeper so there was little that needed to be done, but she had always managed to save a little for him. Nick always suspected that she always did it, to please her husband.

However, today there was a ton of things that needed cleaning and he largely spent the time on his hands and knees scrubbing the toilet. Hours passed and his hands were practically blistered from scrubbing the floor in the lounge for so long. When the dinner bell chimed, he shut his eyes and imagined himself somewhere else. He wasn't going downstairs to the dinning room to sit and eat docilely father. He was going downstairs to sit next to a murderous monster.

He was the last to enter the room and to take a seat as the maid placed his plate in front of him. His fork in hand, his mind elsewhere, he only pushed the food mindlessly to all four corners of the oddly square plate. In the corner at the small side table sat Greg, his brown eyes down, silently eating his dinner. For a brief second there, he would have given anything to exchange places with Greg. For that one brief moment, he wanted to be anywhere but here. He didn't want to be the son of the famous Judge Stokes. He wanted to be just Nick and adored for being whom he had made himself to be.

Unfortunately, for Nick, this temporary neutrality of communication had to come to an end sometime. Daddy dearest was now looking at him square in the eyes. "I hear you got kicked you of school today," said his father with an unwavering straight voice. "Boy, go to your room, I will call you down when it's time for you to go help the field hands," he instructed Greg. He promptly got up and left the formal dining room leaving behind half his food uneaten.

"I will take this up to him," said Jillian lovingly.

"You will do nothing of the sort," commanded Bill in a stern voice even Nick had heard only on some rare occasions. "You cater your love to that boy too much as it is." It was probably the truth, in Bill Stokes' opinion, but Nick had the suspicions that Jillian would bring him food when she was able.

"So," waited Bill rather impatiently, tapping his foot. "What is it?"

"I got kicked out, sir," said Nick rather reluctantly.

"So I hear son, but why this time?" continued Bill impatient for the answer.

"Because," was all Nick wanted to answer. He didn't want to tell the entire story on how it came about. The whole sequence of events was done completely out of spite and his hatred of his father. He hated how his father always had to know best. Nick hadn't wanted to go to these fancy schools filled to the brim with the world's snobbish, most spoiled little brats. He hated them, and they were all the same.

"That's not going to cut it," grumbled Bill who was now nearing the limits of his patience. The vein in his forehead was now pulsating as his face darkened to a nice unhealthy plum red. The look in dad's eyes could have murdered his son at that moment, but Nick didn't even flinch a single muscle. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. To him it was a game of wills and he was not going to let his will be the weakest link.

"We spent a good deal of money to send you to that school…" The rest of the conversation beyond this point had been drowned out in the same form he used whenever his father got this angry with him. He didn't want to hear it. In fact, it was rather pointless to listen to him and the now mindless drabble said bitterly and angrily out of his mouth. All it did was to put him down and tell him how he had failed him and all the ways he was never good enough. His voice was still ringing in his ears when he finally left the dining room. His booming voice chipping all the love and caring Nick had ever had for his father away into a fine powdered dust now blowing in the wind.

It was "the speech" again, on how he had failed his father miserably. He looked to his mom to help him out, but she had no authority to do such things. She never did have authority to overrule the infamous Judge William Stokes, the most powerful man in West Texas, married to the wealthiest women ever raised in East Texas from the millionaire oil tycoon.

A few moments passed in silence before his mom entered the room and quietly shut the door. Her eyes were saddened, but her words sincere. "Don't worry about him," her kind voice softly filled the room with love and compassion. "He just wants the best for you."

"I know," Nick looked down, hiding the tears streaming freely down his face. Time and time again, his father told him that men don't cry, but Nick was an emotional person and he cried if his father wanted him to or not. In his father's eyes that somehow made him weak, or less than a man. It was as if he had been emasculated simply by fact he could cry at the drop of a hat. "It's just I'm never good enough." A statement, which Nick was sure, was true. "I just can't seem to make him happy. I 'm just not good enough to not let him down."

"You haven't let him down, sweetie," she cooed lovingly to him taking him into a tight hug. "You mustn't think that way," she tried in vain to convince him. Unfortunately, the speeches occurred all too often. Now, Nick believed his father's words, lies or truth, now it was ingrained in him that he was not good enough for his father, that he was nothing but a let down from day one.

"I'm not good enough to be his son," and he honestly believed it.

"He's proud of you," she attempted again.

"No, he's disappointed in me. I am nothing more than a disappointment."

The saddened face of his mother Jillian looked down upon her son in a very tender loving way. Though the love for her son ran deep, she was helpless to save him from this despair. If there was one thing she knew better than anything else, it was her husband and his wishes. She knew from day one that Bill would push his boys. He wanted them to be better, smarter, and more athletic than the rest of the boys in the world. He pushed them hard to excel in school and to get respectable careers, as he would call them.

Jillian stood there for a moment looking at her son with concerned eyes. She knew he spoke the truth; Bill was disappointed in him. Bill was disappointed in him for many reasons. The biggest reason in Jillian's eyes was that to Bill, Nick never pushed himself hard enough. He never wanted anything bad enough. Though, Jillian secretly knew, Nick aspired to be different from his father's wishes, but didn't have the internal strength to fight him, so he just gave in.

Her arms wrapped around him tight in her tender embrace sealed with a kiss. Even though she didn't say it, her eyes spoke the silent words clearly. She loved him and Nick knew and understood her love for him. To her he was always good enough, because she loved her son for who he was.

* * *

To Be Continued...

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

** The Once Future King:  
Part One: The Boyhood**  
An **EVELMYS** Story

Chapter IV:  
Discoveries

* * *

--

Alone in his room again, he turned the stereo on to drown out his own feelings of self-doubt. The radio though was only playing ancient depressing country songs and did nothing to cheer Nick up. He flipped it off and sighed, in a state between helplessness and surrender. The room was like a prison to Nick, being stuck there unable to escape. It had everything he needed in the world, and yet he hated it. He had to get out. His door cracked open and he scanned the hall. There was no one there. He walked out and shut the door behind him before walking down to the end, pulling the drawstring and the stairs to the ground. He climbed the rickety stairs and pushed through the trapdoor at the top for the first time in his life.

Inside, he was stunned at the sight that stood in front of his eyes. He had long since known that Greg had been neglected, but he had no idea just how much like a prison his room was. Granted, he had expected to find furniture and all the things that were typically found in a room. No, Greg's room was actually fairly large and quite noticeably empty. The only furnishings in his room was an old army cot, with a lumpy pillow and a tattered blanket, a chest, a small desk, and one rickety chair that sat next to the only window in the room. The room had no noticeable toys, no carpet, or wall decorations. In fact, the dry wall wasn't even painted very well.

Nick had no idea that Greg was living like this. The sight of his empty room nearly sickened him, as a new series of emotions filled his head and heart. Rage, pure unadulterated rage, coursed through his veins. How could his own father treat a human being like this? He didn't understand it. Suddenly, every bad thing he ever thought about his old man came true.

He didn't expect Greg's room to be like his own room. He didn't expect it to have an extravagant antique bed with several blankets, along with a big wooden dresser to match. His room had painted walls and carpeting, and several knick-knacks he had collected. He had a computer, a television set, and remote control cars that he had long since broken. He had everything he had ever wanted and or asked for.

Seeing Greg's room really gave Nick a different perspective on life. Up until this point he knew that he had been neglected, but he had always just assumed that he was at least treated equally as his room was concerned. It turned out to be quite opposite on what Nick thought.

What would he have done at this moment to see Greg? He wanted him to walk into the room, tell one of his elaborate stories, and then maybe he could wrap his arms around him as they cried on each other's shoulders. Loneliness consumed him as he walked over to Greg's old army cot and laid his body down. Tears now freely flowed from his eyes, still hearing his dear dad's voice ringing in his mind. He failed him and he knew he had. He had failed him bad this time. This time there would be nothing he could do to fix this.

Hours passed since Nick first laid his head down. Hours of irregular breaths and long hard sobs into the lumpy uncased pillow. Hours had passed when Greg popped through the trap door entrance to his room.

The light was flipped on and Greg stood there in shock at the sight of Nick lying in his bed, tears freely flowing from those saddened brown eyes. He had been hoping that Bill wasn't too hard on him, and now he understood just how hard Bill was on him. There was sadness in Greg's eyes, sadness mixed in with his own understanding of the persecution of Bill Stokes. He never had the privilege to let the man down. Bill never had many expectations for him. However, he did know and understand what it was like to want to be loved and praised and to receive criticism or nothing in the absence of the harsh words of expectations unmet.

"Are you alright?" asked Greg, cautiously approaching his cot to where Nick lay in a state of distress. "Can I do something for you?"

"No, you don't have to do anything for me. Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, sitting up as the younger boy took off his shirt and tossed it carelessly into the pile at the far corner with the other dirty clothes. Watching carefully, Nick had noticed several red lines across Greg's back and wondered silently what caused them. Though, somewhere in his gut he knew it was a crop or a whip of sorts. Since it didn't seem to bother Greg, he didn't make a big deal of it.

The exhaustion in Greg's eyes was intense, as he walked over to a small basin under a small dripping pipe and splashed the water over his face. Dunking a rag inside it, he began to clean himself off silently and quite pained. Watching the young man cleaning himself had a strange effect on Nick as he felt sensations between his legs intensifying again. He shouldn't be here and he knew that now and walked silently over to the trapdoor to leave him alone to lick his wounds.

"You don't have to leave," said Greg, placing the rag back into the basin. "Please stay?"

Nick stopped and watched Greg a little bit more as he struggled to cleanse his marked back.

"No, its best that no one knows I am here," smiled Nick gravely and started for the door.

"But, no one knows you're here," replied Greg. "I don't want to be alone. Nick, please don't leave me alone. I hate it up here." Tears now sprung from his eyes and this marked a first for Nick. Never before had he ever seen the young boy cry. He'd always been so tough and accustomed to the life he's lived.

With the tearful Greg begging him not to go, there was no way Nick could take the three more steps necessary to leave his room. He watched him as his arm wrapped over his shoulder and he saw the pained expression on Greg's face. He stopped there for a second before deciding to help him.

"Here, let me," said Nick kindly offering a hand for the rag. Gently, Nick wiped the rag over the beaten back of his friend. Gently, he held his hot sunburned body as he flinched from the pain.

"Who did this to you?" asked Nick bravely.

"The field master, he whips me," answered Greg's shaken voice. Tears swelled in his eyes before he pulled away from Nick. His hands covered his face, attempting to hide the tears, the hurt, and the agony. The field master wasn't just whipping Greg. That much was clear to Nick. The field master was breaking him piece by piece, and it was highly promoted and praised by none other than his dear father.

The sight of the broken boy crying hard into his hands hit Nick between the eyes, before slamming hard into his gut and chest. His very soul hurt for Gregory Stokes. Slowly, he approached the small-frightened boy and gently wrapped his arms tightly around him and hugged him telling him softly that everything will be all right. On some level he was telling himself everything was going to be all right, but he, like Greg, had a hard time seeing how.

For hours, they stayed like that desperate for contact in each other's arms, crying oceans of tears. Hours passed and the two of them didn't even move a muscle to part themselves. In each other's arms, they cried. They cried and gave each other the necessary comfort they both wanted and needed until the first ringing of Bill's alarm

Softly, Greg pushed away. His eyes were full of sadness and want, but he knew that Nick should be going now. "You best get, he's going to be here shortly and ask me to cook him breakfast," said Greg rather sadly. He didn't want to leave him any more than Nick wanted to leave him. "Go now, please," begged Greg, not wanting anyone to get in trouble. "You can come tomorrow night if you want, just go now."

With that, Nick's head hung low as he took hesitant steps to the trapdoor. He spared one more look at Greg now slipping between the sheets before leaving the attic for his own room and prison.

--

Summer came and the cotton was nearing harvest. By this time, Nick was home from his new school, as were his brother's John, James, Matthew, and Nathaniel. The house was full of people now, but that only served as a reminder for Greg that this was not his family, and this was not his house. He spent a good portion of the time he was allowed outside with his horse.

Every summer it was like that for Greg, and every summer he'd spend as much time outside with his horse as he could. It wasn't very much seeing how only Jillian let him out and all the rest of the time he was either in his empty room with his black cat or out in the field.

Walking outside, more than slightly miffed, Nick saw Greg leaning against the fence watching Hope frolicking in the pasture. "Why don't you call him and we can go riding," suggested Nick, the angered expression now fading from his facial expression. It took Greg no time at all to get his riding equipment. He was thirteen at this time and Nick was a few weeks from turning fifteen. Over the weeks, Greg had noticed that Nick had started to hang out with him more and more. They talked about precious nothing, and yet just the caring look in Nick's eyes had the power to twitch Greg between the legs. On some level he knew he loved Nick. Not as a brother, as a lover, and he was pretty sure Nick was feeling the same. The problem was he was going to yet another preparatory school, so his time with him again was limited. Even so, Greg still enjoyed the attention Nick gave him.

Recently, Nick had been very turned on by Greg. It wasn't the first time he had thought about Greg in inappropriate ways. It most certainly was not going to be the last time he thought of Greg as more than a friend. And yes, this little trip Nick wanted to get a little bit closer to Greg. Now that he was certain he was attracted to Greg, he had been wanting to spend an incredible amount of time with him. They rode slowly across the cotton field as they made their way back towards the waterhole. Dismounted and sitting in the sand, Nick made sweet small talk with Greg.

Nick told him about the school and about how no one really understood him. Greg could relate to it, because he had just started his secondary school this past year and felt exactly the same way. All the kids knew each other pretty well and there was Greg, kind of like the odd man out. Yet, there was nothing new about it.

They baited sticks again, sunk them into the water and fished for a while not catching anything. They talked and scooted closer until their eyes linked.

"You know something," Nick's eyes smiled softly into Greg's. Attraction grew in his chest and in his pants. His eyes shut thinking about it, and he knew it was the perfect time to see if Greg felt the same way he did.

"No Nick, I don't know anything," answered Greg, now looking straight to Nick's eyes.

"You are an incredible person." Nick's eyes never drifted away. They remained locked onto Greg's soft brown lust-filled eyes.

"I, I am?" choked Greg, who really couldn't believe that anyone would ever have thought him as incredible. He hadn't even considered himself to be an incredible person. So it just mystified him that someone else would think he was. But the way Nick was looking at him, and the way his body was close to his, made him feel very conflicting thoughts in his head.

"Yeah," said Nick softly. "Simply amazing."

Nick's body moved still closer to Greg's and he took his hand before shutting his eyes and gently touching his lips to Greg's perfectly slender pink lips.

* * *

To Be Continued...

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

** The Once Future King:  
Part One: The Boyhood**  
An **EVELMYS** Story

Chapter V:  
Stuck

* * *

His heart beat near uncontrollably fast, as he felt Nick pull away from his face. His mind was reeling, his heart was racing, and his body needed and wanted more.

"Wha…" he was stumped by Nick's actions. Though, he had dreamt about it many times. He had wondered what Nick's lips would taste and feel like as they gently embraced his own. In his wildest imagination, he never foresaw Nick actually kissing him. The complete shock of the event which just unfolded still kept his mind sprinting.

"Please, don't say I have made a mistake," he looked near pale as a ghost. His eyes were wide, nervous, and nearly scared to death. There sat Greg, after one of the most amazing events in his life and the person who gave it to him looked as though Greg was about to kill him.

"No," promptly answered Greg as his face reddened in a deep maroon blush. "I just, I wasn't expecting you to kiss me."

There he was sitting there, his mind reeling with emotions and sensations he had only dreamt about having played out before his very eyes. He looked over towards Nick and then returned his gaze back internally and asked himself silently what it was that he exactly wanted from Nick. Images of the forbidden kiss played through his head, the sensation of the embrace burned to his skin and etched into his memory. His brown eyes searched for understanding and knowing in Nick's eyes, and he found the same want, the same lust, and passion that lay beneath his chest and behind his own beating heart.

There was no thought. Only want and need were left in Greg's mind. So, before he could have a chance to understand just what it is that he was doing, his body was doing it for him. The distance between them closed, the breath in Greg's lungs slowed to a crawl, his eyelids fluttered down as his lips gently brushed over Nick's lips. The kiss was hungry and wanted. It was as if everything in Greg's life has led him to this one moment. His heart beat hard in his chest, his need and want powerfully took over his control. It was as if his whole life was missing something and Nick right now had filled in every missing gap. He never felt so complete.

He pulled back, looked at the older boy and smiled shyly, hoping he didn't do something wrong. Nick's face was livid with emotion and he nearly appeared to be a child in a candy store with a million dollar bill clinched tight in his hand. He appeared to be in heaven.

It was the last thing he had expected though. He had not expected Greg to return his kiss. He wasn't expecting him to return his feelings of lust and attraction. He most certainly wasn't expecting that juicy tongue to slip between his lips. He wasn't expecting the way his body responded to the actions. Never before had he seen Greg's eyes so blacked with lust and need. The floodgates had been opened and suddenly, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. They sat there holding each other kissing desperately.

Their need for each other's approval was magnificent and intense. Even to Nick, the quietest of Judge Stokes's boys felt strong needs to have and to hold Greg's approval for him and the way he felt. More than anything, he needed to know that Greg understood and accepted him for who he was. With this kiss, and the ones that followed, Nick knew Greg understood perfectly. While they both needed each other badly, near desperately in fact, they both also knew just how important it was to keep this thing a secret. The fact that Nick believed he loved Greg, and Greg's response, was something that was on the never tell Bill Stokes list. It was a secret both guys would have to keep if they valued their lives.

The summer was filled with the two of them sneaking away; laying on blankets lost, in the frenzy of hot kisses and ecstasy of lust. Day by day, the days got warmer, and day by day, the two grew closer. They were two minds with similar needs and similar wants. They needed each other to scratch their ever-itchy backs, and to relieve themselves of the stress the family placed upon their shoulders.

The time escaped them as the beginning of the new school year quickly approached them. The time they had together was quickly becoming less frequent, and yet still so desired.

It was a sunny hot day, with dry heat and the two of them barely snuck away from each other. The mood was desperate, as they looked each other in their loving eyes.

"I'm going to miss you," said Nick. The kiss that followed was hot and desperate, as his feelings for Greg too were desperate and taking over. "I don't want to go," he cooed miserably.

"I don't want you to go either," admitted Greg. "I hate it here without you."

They took comfort in each other's arms. The moments they shared together were waning away into the darkness as the school year loomed ahead of them.

Greg always hated it when Nick would go off to school. Over the last two months, he had grown very fond of him and loved him in a way he never thought he would. For Greg, who normally experienced horrific summers, found that this summer was the best summer he could remember. Never before could he remember having been the focus of attention. Never before, had the needs of this small boy been met.

From his attic window the very next day he watched, through the tears dripping down his face, as his beloved Nick placed his trunks into the bed of the pick-up. His brown eyes for a moment gazed to the upstairs window and the goodbye was said silently through the panes of glass. Moments later, Nick was gone.

* * *

The hot summer days faded to livable days of fall. The leaves were turning brown now and falling from the trees, as November came to an uneventful conclusion. Though there was precious little going on, Greg still found himself rather excited that Christmas break was coming. Christmas break meant no school; no school meant that Nick would be coming home. Oh, Greg was ecstatic.

The weeks passed quickly, and before Greg knew it, winter break was upon him. He waited by the trapdoors each night, hoping for Nick to walk through the door, but he never came. Every night he convinced himself that Nick might arrive the next day, and every night he was disappointed. It was moments like this that made Greg realize just how much he missed Nick.

The last day of school arrived, and all Greg wanted was for it to last forever so he wouldn't have to go home to a Nick-less house. The worst part about it was that Judge Stokes had gotten a month off, which meant Greg would be spending most of the break locked away in the attic bedroom he hated so much.

He had barely gotten to school, and the despair was as plain as day written upon his face. "Cheer up," said Lily. Lily was a sweet girl, with a short stature, and long shiny brunette hair. But, what Greg could remember most was her eyes. She had the most amazing blue eyes Greg could ever recall seeing. Though she was beautiful, she must have been as lonely as Greg. She was called the Lily of the West by some, and the name fit her well. Others, though, called her the forbidden Lily for her father's wishes. She was a darling to the town, and a jewel in her father's eye.

That was the problem. Lily Knotweed was the youngest daughter (and the far better looking daughter) of Spade's Mayor Phlox Knotweed. Phlox was a good man, however you get one toe out of line regarding his precious Lily of the West, and his eyes could skin you alive. Many boys tried to seduce her and every time their ears would be boxed. However, Mayor Phlox took an unusual liking to Gregory Stokes, the honorable Judge's youngest son. He liked him, for the simple reason that even though his daughter Lily had taken a liking to Greg, and often voiced her adoration of the young man. Phlox smiled kindly, knowing that Gregory Stokes had never once attempted to return his beautiful daughter's attentions.

So despite the fact that she was forbidden, the two remained good friends, much to the envy of the rest of the schoolboys in Spade. Because Greg was the only one who could ever get close to Lily Flora Knotweed, and none of them understood why he didn't attempt anything.

They sat in the cafeteria together as usual, Greg slouched over, dreading the day to come, and Lily hopelessly in love with a guy who could never return her feelings.

"It couldn't be all that bad," she said with a pretty little smile.

"Oh, it can be that bad," grumbled Greg talking rather pointedly to his forearm. Judge Bill Stokes being home all winter break long, and still no sign of Nick, this was about as bad as things could get.

"It's Christmas and we have no school, what could be bad about it?"

He wanted to say it was because money was thin and the cotton crop didn't produce as expected. He had wanted to say anything to make the interrogation stop. The problem was, Greg had a very good reason for disliking the winter holiday, and he wasn't about to divulge the information to his best friend. The last thing Greg wanted people to know was that he was locked up for countless hours and nearly forgotten about every summer and winter break.

He arrived home in low spirits. Nick was still away at some prep school, Judge Bill Stokes was home, and Jillian was looking still yet graver by the day. She had been sick recently, and it had driven Greg into hard anxieties. Jillian was the only reason he got out at all. Jillian was the reason why he didn't just hate life. She made it bearable and now she might be stuck in the hospital with a bad case of Staph Pneumonia.

* * *

To Be Continued...

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

The Once Future King  
Part One: The Boyhood  
Chapter VI: The Best Christmas Gift

--  
When the big yellow bus dropped him off down the street, he felt nothing more than pure dread as he walked home to find the car gone and a note full of instructions for him to follow. Angry, he threw the note away without reading any of it. He knew perfectly well what the note said. It wasn't as if he didn't see it coming. A list full of chores, to keep him busy until the horrible Judge came home.

There was no way in hell he was going to do that fucking chore list. In a state of rebellion, Greg walked up to the fence and called his horse. It had been a long while since he's ridden her, he was sure he had long since forgotten how, but it was clear by his eagerness that he hadn't forgotten and carried him off far into the fields.

He knew he was going to be in hot water when he returned to the house. He knew he'd be beat for not following the master of the house's rules. It was after dark when he patted Hope back to the pasture to graze. In the house, the lights were on and Greg knew he was in for it this time. There was no escape, so he sauntered right on in and faced the music.

"Where the fuck have you been, boy?" his eyes glared red with anger. Greg swallowed hard, for he was fully aware of the fact that he was going to have to pay for this. His eyes dropped down to the floor in submission of his body. Now, he was at the mercy of his adopted father. His figure stood massive before Greg, and the small boy shrank in the wake of his enormous shadow. With great force, Bill took him by the arm and pulled the small teenager behind him back to the old woodshed.

The sound of the whip zipping through the air was a sound Greg knew well. The sting of the leather touching his skin hurt, but no more than a prickle as he was concerned. He would never give him the satisfaction of making him cry from a whipping.

Greg's ass was sore and bruised so it hurt to walk after Bill's hard whipping. There was a sting of pain that flashed throughout his face. Without thoughts of dinner, Greg passed the dining room, marched with a shuffle up the stairs to his room, shut the door and fell in a fit of tears. Without Jillian around to shield him from Bill's hatred, life was miserable for him. Especially, at times he sat in alone in the attic and had the time to think about Nick. The worst part about it for Greg was that there was nothing he could do about it. He was open to Bill's punishment whether that was starvation, or solitary confinement.

This time around, Bill decided that Greg didn't deserve food. So, for days Greg was left up there foodless and starving, hungry with a rumbling stomach.

There might have been some hope when Lily Knotweed walked up to the door. His hopes were high that maybe he'd be permitted to see her. However, he knew better. When he saw her walking away, he immediately knew he was in trouble again. He wanted to scream for her to rescue him. He wanted her at least to toss up some food. However, there was nothing he could do except for stroke his black starving mewing cat Spook.

"Shhhh," he hissed trying to sooth him with his hand. "You're going to get us in trouble again."

"Mew," the cat answered and arched his back into his hand.

"I know you're starving," he said pointlessly to the cat, who couldn't understand him. "I don't have any food either."

Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk heavy boots stomped on the rickety steps to his attic. Clunk, clunk, clunk, and his heart began to race. The lump grew thicker with each new clunk. The hatch opened and Bill finished his ascent into his room. His eyes were blazing with heated fire directed straight at him. To his memory, he had never seen him madder.

"What business is it of yours to tell your friends to come here?" his face now was nearly two inches away and his hands were within striking distance, yet remained stationary.

"I'm, I'm sorry sir," his head drops automatically.

"You will be sorry," there was a little spark in his eyes. It was something he had hoped not to see again, and yet there he was, being pulled out of the room.

"I didn't tell her to come here," said Greg in a desperate attempt to stop what followed. Out to the shed again, the first time he had been out of that room for days and it was a repetitive whipping over the ass.

The following days were spent by Greg sitting in an old rickety chair. His stomach rumbled and his hand as he watched John Stokes walking up the walk. He was a muscular man, as high as his father, and always a pleaser. Bill loved him and favored him since Nick let him down. The commentaries downstairs were pleasant and it made him even sicker to his stomach.

Out the window, there was Nathan Stokes, with that beautiful wife of his latched onto his arm. The perfect bleached blonde with the tight hourglass figure and as air headed as they come. Nathan wasn't exactly in the favor of his dear dad, but he was accepted and welcomed with open arms nonetheless. He was a knobby Stokes, by all means, and his athletic prowess was pretty much nil to none. However, he made the family proud to be reaching a high level of income designing computer components to help police officers everywhere.

There was Matthew Stokes. He was the classic Stokes, in Greg's opinion. He was just muscular enough not to be over commanding, great at athletics and a wonderful police officer if Greg ever saw one. The last that Greg had heard was that he was becoming a District Attorney, and oh was dear daddy Bill ever proud.

James Stokes walked up next laughing and giggling. James was constantly on Bill's nerves. He was a prankster and a goof-off. Bill always did enjoy lecturing him on how he'd blown every chance and telling them that Matthew has excelled in the police department. Bill enjoyed instructing him. What was better is James never listened.

Then the most unexpected sight befell Greg's eyes. His lovely Nick Stokes, walking with his head tilted down. No longer was he in his father's blessings. He hadn't been since the day he was kicked out of the best prep school in the state. Greg thought he looked miserable, and it was nothing short on how he felt. He wasn't even expecting him here, but it didn't matter because Jillian was in the hospital, Bill was off for the break, and he was stuck foodless in the attic.

The conversation downstairs certainly was merry. People were excited, except for Nick, whose voice was not heard through the floor. The sun disappeared and replaced by the darkness of night. The voices died down as people teetered off into bed. He lay back in his cot and pulled his holey blanket over his body. This was miserable.

It might have been three in the morning when he heard the trap door open. Fearing it was dear Bill, he bolted upright.

"Calm down," the familiar voice sounded. "It's just me."

The smile was huge that crept over his face.

"Come in," said Greg. "Did you bring food? I'm starving."

"Yeah, I brought some food," smiled Nick handing the plate of leftovers.

"Thanks," answered Greg taking the plate and began stuffing his face near desperately.

"Whoa there," he chuckled. "You're eating as if you haven't eaten in three weeks."

"I don't think I have," Greg concurred, pushing more leftovers through his mouth.

"I'm sorry," his eyes flashed with a strange sympathy. "I know dad can be a jerk sometimes."

"Yeah and all of it directed towards me," sighed Greg.

"Do you want me to get you some more food?"

"Please."

It was just a little wait in the loneliness of the attic before Nick returned. The sight of Nick was probably the best sight he had ever seen in his entire life. "Hey, that wasn't so long was it?" Nick entered the room and plopped beside Greg wrapping his arm around him tightly.

"I got you something," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in decorative paper and a small bow.

Greg's eyes grew wide with the gift in Nick's hands. For a long time now, Nick was aware the treatment Bill Stokes gave Greg. He had been only too aware that Greg was not privileged to receive gifts, or even to be in the same room when gifts were received.

"I thought it was time for you to get a present," he punctuated it with a loving, gentle kiss to his cheek. Greg's whole face livened into a very gracious smile. He eyed the gift and delicately began to open it. With each tear of paper, his eyes widened just a bit further as he flipped open the box to find a simple silver ring glistening inside.

"I thought you would like to have something that was yours. That I gave you. I saved up all year to get you this," he kissed him again.

"It's beautiful," marveled Greg.

Morning came all too quick for both Nick and Greg's liking. Even though Greg would have loved to follow him out, he couldn't. Moments later, Nick was gone.

Greg had hoped that Nick would have snuck up again, but he never saw him again that break. Alone in his room, his heart was breaking piece by piece, and yet, he wore Nick's ring dangling from a small silver chain proudly around his neck. He still had the heart of Nick and to Greg that was all that really mattered.

* * *

To Be Continued...

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

he Once Future King  
Part One: Boyhood  
Chapter VII: Letters from Nicholas

By: Evelmys

Rating: R-ish

--

Lily Knotweed was literally bouncing with joy when Greg arrived at school in mid April.

"Boy, do I have a surprise for you," her eyes beamed with joy. Her whole body was glowing in excitement.

Today, was horrible for Greg, everything went wrong. Every step he made, it was out of line according to the rules of Bill. What would he do just not to go back home.

"I hope you are telling me your father's adopting me," said Greg very dejectedly.

"No," she giggled slightly. "I got these," she waved around several white envelopes.

"So what," grumbled Greg placing his head in his mashed potatoes.

"Their from Nicholas Stokes," she smiled. No one in Spade knew about Greg's boyfriend, with one exception: Lily. She knew by virtue of Greg venting his own frustrations to her. She didn't mind though. With Greg in love with Nick, he wouldn't make a pass at her, and as long as he kept his eyes to himself, her father Phlox never had a problem with their friendship. In fact, he rather liked Gregory Stokes.

"Give me those," Greg grasped for the white envelop and pried it from her hands.

It was several letters from Nick. It was his handwriting on the outside with his name and addressed to Lily's address.

"How?" asked Greg without thinking.

"He called me the day after Christmas, really early. He was crying, he said he was forced to do something and that he would write you through me. I've had some of them for a while. I've been meaning to give you them, I just, you looked so miserable, I thought I'd cheer you up." Her bright blue eyes sparkled and shined.

He ripped the seal of the first envelope and read:

_Greg,_

I shut my eyes and I can see you as clear as day. I got you in my arms and kissing your neck softly. A moan would leave your lips. Your hands would sneak naughtily into my pants and take hold of my penis and you would be stroking it gently. I miss the day's we'd do that. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to you. I wanted to. I wanted to scream it to you, but dad decided that I should study abroad and sent me away the day after I saw you. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. On the flight over here, I called Lily Knotweed. I wished I could have called you, but dad would have never let the call through. I asked her if I could send you letters through her. She's a great girl and deserves a lot of thanks. I hope to write you as frequently as I can. I love you so much Greg. I love you and I miss you so much it hurts. I hate being a half a world away from what I want. I wish my dad would just be happy with who I am. But, he won't be happy unless I am a police officer saving the day for Dallas. I don't want to be a cop. I hate the idea of it. I wish he'd just let me be what I want to be. Damn it, I wish he had let me have one more night. One more night I could have been in your arms. I miss you. Don't let Dad treat you too bad. I hope to see you soon.

Love,  
Nick

Tears freely flowed down Greg's cheeks. He missed Nick near desperately. He read the letter several times over again. He missed his guardian angel that made him feel so good. The angel that made him feel so whole and loved. The only being on this planet who even gave full loving attention to him.

Without a word, he folded the letter up and placed it in the envelope, then in his back pocket.

The next read:

_Greg,_

This week has been miserable. Everyone here hates me. They make fun of me here and make me cry. Damn it, fucking dad is trying to fucking make a man of me yet. Damn, I just wish he would just let me be myself. I hate these schools. They're all the same. They only care about whom your family is, how much money you got and if you are completely up to date on the latest fads. I hate them. They're all just stupid snobs who know nothing but money and cruelty. Damn, I hate it here. I love you and I miss you and I wish you were here now cuddling me, because I really could use one of your bear hugs.

Love you always,  
Nick.

Each letter stated misery to him. Nick was lovesick across the world with people he hated. Tear stains splattered on the letters, more each time he wrote. Greg looked at them and then looked up at Lily who was nervously twiddling her fingers in her palms.

"Why didn't you give me these earlier?" asked Greg, he was angry that she hadn't given them to him as soon as she got them. However, he wasn't going to do anything about it.

"I," her eyes drifted down in shame. "I couldn't. I was, I love you Greg, I love you. When, Nick told me he loved you I got jealous and I just didn't, I couldn't give them to you. I thought if you never heard from him, you would start to see me. I can see now, you love him too. I'm sorry I kept them from you."

Her words were truthful, the emotion sincere, and Greg finally saw her for what she was. He never really even noticed her feelings for him. Never thought she would have about him. He didn't say anything to her, he just pocketed the envelopes Nick had sent and was grateful she gave them to him.

"See ya," he said two seconds before the bell for fourth period began. She just stood there watching him.

"Why do you like him?" asked another girl.

"Because, he's like that lost puppy, which you can't help but to love," she answered and walked off.

--

Hard labor and solitary confinement was the harsh reality that Greg Stokes faced in the years to come. There were some bright spots as well. Every month, nearly like clockwork Lily would bounce through the halls of the school with another letter in hand from Nick. Greg loved those days and he looked forward to them. The words from Nick were his only escape from the misery he lived. Lily would always be there with him, holding his hand as he read the intimate scribbles of Nick. He wrote about everything from the snobs, to what he fantasized doing to Greg if he were within his reach.

"Something interesting?" she would ask when Greg's face flushed from some of Nick's written ideas. He'd shake it off and give a small white lie and Lily would have known no better. She knew no better on many things. The past four letters were filled with such lust and love just from reading Greg found himself growing hard. 'Please,' his mind would whisper wanting the contact desperately. Lily never knew his wants, his needs or his desires and he wanted to keep it that way. It didn't matter how hard he got, he would rather take the embarrassment of someone's eyes catching his boner than to be soft and not have read the sweet words of his loving boyfriend.

It was a Tuesday and Lily was once again bouncing down the halls, her braided pigtails bouncing as she handed the latest letter to Greg.

_"My dear love Greg,_

I love you and I miss you, but I think I will be coming home soon. This May I am graduating. I wrote mom and dad and asked them to bring you along, I hope they do, I miss you so much. I love it when you invade my dreams, I love secretly masturbating to your image, but I would much prefer the real you. Only one-month left and I will no longer have to masturbate to your image, but to have your hands there instead of my own. I can't wait. Keep your chin up. I hope to see you at my graduation. I told them to bring you, but you know dad. Well I love you, I wish this letter was longer, but all these final examinations, time is running short. I love you, I can't wait to be back in Spade with you.

Love always and forever more,  
Nicholas Eugene Stokes"

Off the big yellow bus, it was the same walk as every single day in Greg's life. He walked up the narrow lane, down the long drive, up the front steps, through the front door, up the first set of stairs, pulled the drawstring, walked up the second set of stairs, threw open the trap door, pulled up the stairs, shut the door and went to his chair to watch the world pass him by. Every day it was exactly the same and no deviance from the plan. Today was no different.

The only thing different about this day was Bill, Jillian, James, John, Matthew, and Nathan were all loaded up into a car and leaving the driveway to go to Nicholas's graduation. Tears again roll from Greg's eyes at being left behind in the empty house again.  
----------------------  
To Be Continued 


	8. Chapter 8

The Once Future King  
Part One: The Boyhood  
Chapter VIII: Naughty Boys  
By: Even Star  
Rating: NC-17-R ish...

--

Time seems to lag on as days pass uneventfully to the next. Day in and day out Greg spent in the solitude of the house now standing on his head counting the seconds as they passed by. Red-faced and still bored out of his mind he righted himself and started anxiously jogged around his room.

"Mew," purred Spook.

"You're right, this isn't making time pass any faster," panted Greg, flopping down to his worn cot.

The silence merely lasted four days, a short amount of time considering the duration some of his isolation periods had been. After four days of silence downstairs was lively, full of pleasant celebrations. Greg sat upstairs alone, still miserable.

It was two-thirty in the morning, and Greg sat hopeful in the rickety wooden chair waiting eagerly for the impromptu knock to be tapped at the door. Tick, tock, tick, the clock wound down the pendulum swung left to right. Tick, tick, tick, the Westminster chime began to sound. Tick, tick, tock, Greg's heartbeat began to rise, his hopes riding on his sleeve as he watched the trapdoor hoping for Nick's head to magically pop from below.

The sound of the rapping at the door startled the nearly asleep boy. He ran to the trapdoor peeled back the lock and hurried Nick inside.

"God, I missed you so much," his muscular arms wrapped powerfully around Greg. His head rested snugly in the crook of his neck. Both afraid to let go, both afraid of what the dawn could bring. Today was perfect, for tonight they were in each other's arms comforting each other.

Their lips slid together, their tongues slid between the other's teeth dancing an intimate dance inside the tasty confines of their lover's mouth. Moans hum through their sealed lips, both terribly afraid to pull back from the other. The look in Nick's eyes was the look of pure need. It was clear at that moment that they both needed each other as the next. Powerfully, Nick walked Greg backwards to the cot and gently sat him down.

"Stay the night with me?" asked Greg arching up to kiss Nick.

"I don't know, dad might suspect something if I came from the attic," replied Nick pulling away.

"Please," begged Greg. "Dad only thinks he knows control."

"What do you mean by that?" barked Nick much harsher than he intended.

"Nothing, it's just he has a certain pattern of behaviors, and they never change. Nick he won't find you up here."

"How do you know that?"

"Because every morning Bill's alarm always goes off at four-fifteen on the dot, in all the years I have ever lived here it's been like that. It will ring three times, by the third ring he'll be up. He'll go to the bathroom, immediately start the shower, he pisses, he shaves, he removes his shorts, and gets in the shower. Fifteen minutes later the shower is turned off and he wraps himself in a light blue towel. He kisses his wife good morning, he comes out to the hall, takes the broomstick in the old milk jug and bangs on my hatch. I get up, walk down the rickety stairs, walk down the first set of stairs to the kitchen. He's reading the morning paper at the Breakfast nook. I go to the stove, put on a skillet. I spray it down and plop three eggs there. I cook them for a few minutes each, flip them and cook them for equal time. Over easy, that is how he takes his eggs. I slide them to the plate, put three slices of bread into the toaster. They pop, I butter them, and put them on the plate and return to my room. At five-twenty nearly on the dot, he leaves the house and gets into his car a few minutes past that he's gone for the day, to be the good little judge he is."

Astonishment saturated Nick's face. Greg's observations were something that Nick never thought he could do.

"Wow," noted Nick walking towards Greg and wrapping his arms around him.

"In the morning, when the knock on the hatch comes, stay in bed. He'll hear the movement and know there are two people upstairs. Stay until I get back, and don't worry about Jillian, she knows."

"What?" Never before had Greg seen someone's head snap quite that fast. "You fucking told her?" his words were angry, his eyes were blazing, the soft tender Nick was gone replaced with the angry Nick.

"No," countered Greg, "I didn't tell her anything, I swear it," he responds to Nick's facial expression indicating he didn't believe his boyfriend. "She caught you looking at me, she confronted me, I didn't even confirm, well I did, but I didn't say anything."

In a blink of an eye, the soft and gentle Nick was back and boy was Greg ever relieved. "So, will you stay, tonight?"

Nick was so easily swayed. He knew he should just say no. His guts screamed for him to stick to his guns and walk down that hatch. But, the pleading desperate look in Greg's eyes was something he just couldn't say no to.

"Yeah, I'll stay," answered Nick wrapping his arms lovingly around his love. "I'll stay forever if you want me to," smiled Nick, taking the moment to give Greg a little peck on the lips.

"Can you, really?" Greg's eyes fluttered, loving, wanting, and passionate.

"If I could," he answered slowly, walking Greg back to the cot. "So, I'm stuck in your room my love, for the whole night, where do you want me?"

"On the bed," indicated Greg with a nudge of his hand. "Remove your shirt."

Without words, Nick sashayed over to the cot, seductively removed his shirt and sat down leaning back on one elbow to prop himself on. "Like this?" Nick playfully wiggled his eyebrows.

"Just like that," purred Greg, walking towards the bed, stripping his shirt off his own slender frame. "Now, Nicholas, what would you like me to do?"

"Mmmm, now that is a difficult decision isn't it?" smiled Nick. "But, I think I want you right here," he pointed to his arms. "I want to hug and cuddle you." His eyes were darkened, near puppy-dog black. His face glowed from sweat droplets on his brow. The smile on his face placing those precious darling dimples dancing on his cheek.

"I want to give you something," smiled Greg lowering himself to Nick's waiting arms.

"Mmm, and what would that be?" asked Nick rather curiously.

"Well, there'd be plenty of these," he puckered his lips and moved them over Nick's lips softly. "And this," he gently ran his fingers up Nick's muscular chest.

Greg's lips moved masterfully on Nick's mouth, his tongue entered and all Nick wanted was more. His hands gently moved over his chest and his mind was racing. Moans of passion escaped his lips, his eyes closed as Greg gently nipped at his neck. His hands pinched and twisted his pebble-like nipples and his body cried for more. His erection strained against the denim barrier of his jeans and he thrust it at Greg. "Please," his voice demanded. Never in his life before this moment had he been this hard.

His hand took Greg's from his nipple and dragged it down to the bulge now at his pants. Desirable noises emerged from his mouth as Greg's fingers worked the button and the zipper. Down the zipper ripped and Nick's still-covered erection flew out. The relief was nearly tangible in the audible sigh of relief Nick released. "Lift your hips," whispered Greg, and Nick obeyed.

Greg sat there looking at Nick lying there looking at him ogling his muscular body. The hottest sight was lying underneath him. Nick's erect body made his heart flutter. Seeing his naked chest, that dorky, yet erotic smile on his face, and the lower extremity now standing tall and proud.

Now, there was one thing still in the way and it was the one thing that Greg was most nervous about removing. Sure, he'd touched Nick's penis before, but he had never seen it before. He sucked in his breath and wondered to himself if Nick even wanted him to.

"Can I?" he asked nervously.

Shutting his eyes, Nick lifted his hips for his boxers and immediately, Greg slipped them off him and saw Nick's entire body for the first time. "You're beautiful," said Greg nearly unable to breathe. Shakily, his hand gently wraps his fingers around Nick's erection sending huge gasps of air through Nick's open mouth. His fingers find the tattered old blanket and he grasps it tightly.

"God," his head twisted around needing, wanting, so much more. Greg watched interestedly in his boyfriend's behavior. Like a good conductor of pleasure, a masterful wizard he was, Greg smiled sinisterly before spreading his legs further apart. "Do you really?" quipped Greg delicately touching the small wet opening at the very tip.

"Fuck yes," hissed Nick like he couldn't get enough of the contact. "Make me cum Greg, make me cum," he panted and shut his eyes.

"Sir," he lowered his face down on the standing toy soldier and extended his tongue to graze the hot moistened tip. Screams nearly flew out of Nick's unprepared mouth. "Jesus Christ," he squirmed some more. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," words were becoming incoherent consonants. Pleased by the response, Greg's eyes deepened as he opened more of his mouth to take in the extended penis as deep as it would go. "Whoa my god," thrashed Nick some more. "Cripes, where'd you fucking learn that?" he garbled out between long gasps of breath and desirable moans of a man lost in a trance of ecstasy.

The motions seemed to blur together, sucking, the head bobbing. It was the amazing feeling when Nick did cum hard into the back of Greg's throat, and the way he came allowing Greg to taste Nick for the first time. It was the most erotic night Greg could ever remember. The last words uttered into the deep morning hours were, "thank you," and they collapsed, asleep in each other's masculine arms.

--

Every night was spent with Nick there holding Greg as they slept. It was something both had become accustomed to. What more, against Nick's initial fears, Bill Stokes knew nothing about the mischievous behavior of his boys during the night snuggling in each other's arms.

It was a clear blue sunny sky out and Nick was out galloping around on his beautiful white mare Jasper. From the attic window, Greg watched as Nick rode carefree up and down the front pasture.

His arms flailed in the air as his horse reared up on command, and Greg laughed at his crazy boyfriend.

His head turned towards the drive and the taillights finally disappearing through the cloud of dust from the gravel road. Nick rode to the side of the house and tapped lovingly on the drainpipe three times. Excited, his heart racing, Greg flung the trapdoor up, unlatched the hatch and nearly jumped down the rickety stairs two at a time. Down the hall he skittered, his heart pounding with lust and love, down the stairs he dashed as he ran up to the white mare with the masculine name.

From above watched Jillian as her two youngest children play their foreplay games. For a while now she had noticed, rather secretly, their darkest desires and their attraction for each other. She sighed knowing this relationship would never work. She enjoyed them spending time together and she didn't even mind them becoming romantically involved, but her husband was bound to find out sooner or later and she feared for the day the master would come home to find the two of them interlocked in intimate kisses.

She watched as Nick placed the young Greg on his mare and kicked the horse to gallop hard and fast into the distance. Silently, she hoped the boys would find themselves and hope that love was not forgotten within the house of Stokes.  
------------------------  
To Be Continued...

I must apologize for the delay... I have this completed on another site and sometimes I forget that I haven't gotten that far here... I don't come here that often... Thank you to all who have replied, you guys are so sweet... I hope you enjoyed this next chapter... :-)


	9. Chapter 9

The Once Future King  
Part One: The Boyhood  
Chapter IX: Consequences.  
By: Evelmys  
Rating: See previous

NOTE: Due to rules and regulations of this site, I was forced to skip the last chapter. However, if you wish to read that missing chapter, you are free to PM me and I will send you the proper chapter 9. However, for story purposes, this will do just fine... Thanks for reading all -Evel

--

Whenever the two of them got a chance, they dashed to the woods in a haste of physical attraction and sexual pleasure they granted their lover. Often giddy as they rode or walked, and sometimes ran to the place before enjoying the sweet tastes of each other, and the musky smell of sexual intercourse. The cravings for sex became extreme and they found themselves indulging in their passions and giving into their deepest desires.

"I love you Nick," whispered Greg, starring starry-eyed to his lover. "Please don't leave me."

"I promise, my heart will always remain with you," he smiled and kissed him. The summer was coming to a close, and Nick's first semester at the Texas school of Agriculture and Mathematics was soon approaching.

They dashed away on this day just as they had on several previous occasions. However, unbeknownst to them, they had a follower. A set of brown peeping eyes, hid in the shrubs watching as they made small romantic gestures to themselves and dashed away to the woods. Behind them, the sibling followed the hoof prints deep to the thicket. He stood quietly behind a tree and watched as the two undressed each other. Shock coursed through his body when he saw his brother and 'That Boy' hard with desire fondling each other. They giggled and joked around. Jamesran back to the house, sight unseen as the two boy's lay there in ecstasy, groaning as the other did masterful things to them.

--

There was plenty of time for Greg to get to his attic when they arrived back at the house. After all, Nick and Greg had this down to a science. They planned enough time to fuck and to return to the house with enough time to finish his chores and get Greg to his attic room. When they arrived though, Nick hadn't paid much attention to anything except for watching Greg walking up the ladder to the attic.

"What do you want?" asked Nick directed to James.

"You like him don't you?" smirked James knowing the answer already.

"What gives you that idea?" There was a point where Nick would have started sweating, but there was no reason to. He just saw him looking at Greg a little bit unnecessarily longer than normal, didn't he? There was no reason to sweat that.

"You like to look at him," mentioned James.

"What does that mean?" followed Nick.

"Nothing," lied James not really stopping. "I know you like him in ways you shouldn't, and you will pay for them."

Nick's mind was reeling. Greg and he had been spotted. They were seen having sex. His heart was beating outside his chest and he ran towards James.

"Nobody else knows do they? Do they James?"

James stood there smiling wider than Nick had ever seen.

"Called dad earlier, told him all about your little sex-session there by the creek."

Nick's eyes were bug wide hearing James had already told dad.

"You, you didn't," he didn't want to believe it.

"Already did," said James turning away.

Nick placed his hand on his shoulder, but James turned around. "Don't touch me faggot," he spit a loogey right in his face.

There Nick stood with spit and mucus on his face knowing perfectly well that he was never going to see Greg again. Suddenly, dread over took him as he knew better than anyone that things were not going to be good when dearest dad returned.

He didn't know what to do, but he knew he had to warn Greg. Greg didn't need to go through this not knowing of what awaited him. He ran up the stairs and quickly climbed the ladder and burst into Greg's room.

At the sudden intrusion, Greg jumped his heart beating hard.

"What are you doing here?" asked Greg his eyes opened wide.

"Dad, er, Bill might know," said Nick quickly.

"Know what?" cautiously asked Greg.

"About, you, me, and sex," Nick closed his eyes and took a deep long breath to calm his nerves.

"He couldn't have, he was at work," said Greg trying feebly to calm Nick down.

"No, James saw us, me, you on the bank having sex. He, he fucking called dad," tears were now gushing out of Nick's eyes. Greg came to Nick and pulled his arms around him trying again to comfort him. "Maybe he didn't," suggested Greg.

"Maybe he did, Greg, if he knows this is the last time I will be able to put any kind of an eye on you."

"I know," whispered Greg. "I know he's going to beat the fucking shit out of me. I expect he'll go ballistic on me for brainwashing you. For coming onto you, probably for seducing you into having sex with me. It was me on top remember. I'm going to be the one to pay for this," Greg looked down as his own tears rolled down his face.

"What do we do?" asked Nick.

"We write, we wait, and we remain faithful to each other. Three more years Nick, three and we don't ever have to see him again in our lives."

"Doesn't seem much like a choice," sighed Nick. "Dad, he's going to find a way to get the gay out of me. It's just, Greg I have felt physically attracted to you since I was ten. He's not going to be happy until I got a ditzy bleached blonde in my arms with tons of babies. You know that's what he wants for us."

"I know, Nick, get a girlfriend then. I will love you. I won't give up on you, on me, on us. It's three years, and yes I know he's probably going to send me away."

"Greg's he's probably going to castrate you."

"Shit," cursed Greg. "He's here, you best get going. Hurry, we mustn't be seen together."

"I love you Greg, I will wait for you," he leaned over and stole possibly his last kiss.

"Love you to, just go," cried Greg and he was silent as he watched Nick disappear out of the trap door.

--

Nick had barely the time to sit down on the couch and wipe the tears away when dear daddy entered with a hard slamming of the door. He tried to keep his calm and to act perfectly normal. There was after all no reason to suspect anything than a bad day at the office.

That was until he walked into the living room with eyes filled to the brim with a murderous rage. The vein was in clear view and at the moment, Nick knew he knew what he and Greg had done by the creek.

He tried to make his mind up with fighting him or just accepting the punishment he would dish out.

"I hear you have a romantic interest in Greg," said Bill Stokes rather calmer than expected. The rage that was present in his voice rang loud and clear to his youngest son.

Nick made no move to counter his beliefs. He said nothing to defend himself, nor to counter what his dear dad knew.

"Did he pressure you?" asked Bill very calmly and without jumping the bullet so to speak.

"No dad, he didn't pressure me. He did nothing wrong. I wanted it," Nick took responsibility. "I love him, and more than a brother, or a friend. I love him."

"Why son? Why you?" asked the respectable Texas judge. His eyes were saddened and concerned. "Don't worry, we will get you fixed. This problem of yours we will get it fixed."

"It's not a problem dad," Nick tries to protest, but it fell on stubbornly deaf ears.

"You will be going to an institute tonight," said Nick's dad gravely. "Pack some personal belongings." Nick did what he was instructed and returned to sitting back on the couch with his suitcase. He didn't even try to fight his dad. It was hopeless and he knew it. If he was going to an institute, then there was nothing he could do to change that. Once Bill Stokes' mind was made, that was the final word.

Bill returned moments later with the car keys in hand and Nick left with his head hung low.

"Dad," he said when Bill had been driving for a little while. "Please, don't go ballistic on Greg. I wanted it. I asked for it. He did nothing."

"He had his penis in my youngest son, do you call that nothing?"

"No, but I wanted him to put it there. Dad, I love him and nothing you do will change that. There is no place on this earth that can change the way I feel about Greg. I love him. And you can try if you might, we will be together again someday."  
---------------------------------  
To Be Continued... 


	10. Chapter 10

The Once Future King  
Part One: The Boyhood  
Chapter X: Missery.  
By: Evenstar  
Rating: R

--

His father was uncharacteristically quiet. It was as if he had said his part and had nothing more to share. Just when Nick thought that, maybe some chord had been broken, he did speak, and the second he did he whished he didn't.

"Greg will be punished for what he did to you. His life, as he knew it is over, and son there is nothing you can do to prevent that. He banged my son, and he will pay for it with many scars."

--

Greg watched as Bill Stokes took his youngest son with him. He watched knowing that was going to be the last time he saw him. In the window, he sat hoping the car would bring him back. He had hoped that Nick would have fought his dad, but he knew he didn't have the strength necessary to battle him will to will.

The trap door opened, and Jillian Stokes silently entered.

"Tell me, my dear child. Tell me it isn't true. Tell me you do not love Nicholas," her eyes were saddened and grief-stricken.

"I love him Jillian," said Greg quite openly and quite honestly. "I love Nick, I have loved him for a long time now. Where is he taking Nick?"

"To an institution, far away that will do sex therapy with him and change his thinking," answered Jillian quite flatly.

"And what of me?"

"Don't ask such things of me son, please, do not ask such things of me. You are still too young to be on your own, but I fear for you dearly my child."

Her face was grave and Greg understood that she was helpless to prevent anything her husband will now do to him.

"What will he do to me?" asked Greg. He had to know what the storm would bring him.

"I don't know," she cried. "I won't be able to interfere though, and I fear he will beat you long and hard with long bull whips."

"I will take my punishment," Greg lowered his head to hide the tears now flowing down. "He won't, he won't mutilate me will he?"

"Greg, I don't know what William is capable of when he's like this. He could possibly emasculate you. I don't know what he's going to do to you. I wouldn't expect it to be pretty. I'm sorry you will have to go through this my son. I will try to give you food, when I can, I am sure he will starve you. Do not expect to be released from this room anytime soon. He should lock the door and hide the key. This is no way for you to live."

"Is there some way I can leave this place?" swallowed Greg.

"I wish there were," she looked ever sadder by the minute.

"Would he really emasculate me?" gulped Greg.

"I don't know dear. I don't know what he's capable of. Here take this my dear, and take care of yourself," she concluded handing him a box which contained a silver double-bladed knife. Greg never questioned her as she disappeared down through the trap door and left him there with the small dagger.

--

Judge Stokes got out of the car alone, and walks to the house. Greg could hear the stomping of his feet up the stairs. The trap door opened and Greg sucked in his breath.

"Since, I have previously made an agreement about your living situation. I will not be kicking you out of my house. Since the rules of that agreement I was reminded of earlier today clearly state that you are to have a room in my house until you are of age. Therefore, since I cannot kick you out of the house, I have no choice but to keep you in the house. Under lock and key, mind you. You will be let out and escorted to the bus, and you will be met back and escorted back to your room, where you will remain locked. You will receive a sack lunch in the morning, and dinner to be eaten in your room at night. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," answered Greg.

"Your furnishings will be removed, and you will have a blanket which to cover yourself up with."

Bill Stokes's eyes remained stern throughout this confrontational depletion of all Greg's possessions. "Your horse, Hope will be sold. I assure you, you will no longer need him. And if you ever fuck another person in my family ever again, I will personally see to it, that you will never forget the kindness which I am showing today. Good day," he says and leaves the room, but only for moments. He returned back to take the cot, the trunk, the chair, and the desk. He left me one journal, a pen, Greg's school bag, and his blanket.

--

The next three years passed with difficulty for Greg. He's wrote a lot in his journal and it was nearly full of his un-fulfilled love and his frustrations, the little sketches he drew of Nick and him, and his endless wonder on what ever became of his boyfriend Nick Stokes.

His graduation date was coming and school was becoming as hard as he ever knew. There was a celebration of sorts going on downstairs. Greg knew Nick was there, because he can hear his voice sounding brilliantly from below.

Hearing that voice brought tears to Greg's eyes and he pulled his pants, now too small for him, down and cried in agony as he thought of Nick the way he was and masturbated to the images he drew in his journal, the sounds of his voice, and Greg's own memories.

If he could change one thing about this, he would change the way his body responded just to the sound of Nick's song-like voice. He hated to get a hard on every time there was a holiday or anything and Nick was home. Tears rolled from his eyes down his cheeks. His hand moved gently up and down his enlarged cock. In his mind Nick was there, his warm eyes gazing into his warming his very soul, as his hands would touch him.

The trapdoor opens and Bill finds Greg there deep in masturbation touching himself in sexually stimulating ways. He could hear Greg's breaths as his body neared excretion. Bill was absolutely appalled by the sight of Greg there crying buckets of tears his hand firmly gripped tight around his cock and his hips lifting off the ground as he softly called Nick's name as his white semen left his softening length.

"WHAT THE FUCKING EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!" shouted Bill at the sight of Greg's masturbation. Greg's eyes opened wide as Bill took him by the collar of his shirt and hung him where his feet no longer touched the ground.

"TELL ME!" he demanded.

Still more tears escape Greg's eyes. He watched the trapdoor thinking to himself what he would do to just escape right now and go to Nick's loving arms. He wanted Nick to pop his head in through the hole, but he never appeared.

"If you are looking for Nicholas, he's not going to return to you. He's been cured of his desire to bed you," said Bill Stokes, his smile was wide and full of thrill. Sad truth was he did get some sinister thrill from depriving Greg of the love he felt for Nick.

"Now, answer me what were you doing?" asked the old man again.

"Pretending," answered Greg. "Pretending Nick was here touching me the way he used to. The way he used to enjoy it."

"Yes, there'll be no more of that," he backhanded Greg hard. "Now, get your pants on and you KEEP them on you got me?"

Greg nodded and watched as he left.

--

The next few nights passed with Greg alone in the attic listening to Nick's pleasant voice and yet he never came knocking on his door. Greg didn't want to believe Bill when he said Nick was cured. He didn't want to believe him when he said he wasn't going to come back to him.

He tried not to take it personally, but it hurt on several different layers of his mind because he loved Nick so dearly. There he was waiting with Bill beside the road waiting for the big yellow school bus.

"So, did Nick ever try to see you?" asked Bill with a sinister look about him.

Greg didn't want to answer the man. He never wanted to talk to him again. His heart was shattered and broken; all hope had faded from within.

"No sir," he answered gloomily. It was the honest truth and it hurt.

The bus came and he climbed aboard where he sat in his usual place right beside Lily.

"So was he home? Your boyfriend?" asked Lily with that sweet smile.

"Yeah," answered Greg still moping around. "He's home."

"Did he come to see you?"

"No, he didn't come to see me," replied Greg and he thought he could cry. "Bill said he had been cured. He never even attempted to knock on my door." Now, Greg was crying in a fit of hurt and agony.

"I'm sorry," cooed Lily gently rubbing Greg's back.

"What did they do to him?" cried Greg. "What did that fucker do to my wonderful Nicky?"

"Maybe we can find out," encouraged Lily. "My uncle is a deputy and he's got access to those sorts of files."

"I would like that," answered the young man who missed his Nicky more than anything. They arrived at the school and Lily hurried off to the computer lab, where her first class was held. Greg moped helplessly down the hall before settling in his first period English class. Things were definitely weighing heavy in his mind. His only hope was if Lily could get access to Nick's record and they could find out for themselves.

To be continued...

thank you all who have replied. I love hearing from you all...


	11. Chapter 11

The Once Future King  
Part One: The Boyhood  
Chapter XII: Stepping into the future...  
By: Evelmys  
Rating: PG13 Ish... maybe R ish...

--

It was lunchtime when Greg finally met back up with Lily. They did after all have the same lunch period together.

"So?" snapped Greg near desperate to know.

"Doesn't look good," said Lily quite sadly. "It says he was taken to an institution which practices an extreme form of hypnotherapy."

"Hypnotherapy?" repeated Greg not liking the sound of it one little bit.

"Yeah," answered Lily quite sadly. "It says here he was seen by a Doctor Asia Silverstone, who administered mind resistance medications to Nick and started to reprogram his thought processes. Greg, I think the reason why Nick didn't visit you, is because, he doesn't even know you exist. I think Judge Stokes had you completely removed from his memories."

Greg sat there whiter than even the faintest of ghosts. It did make perfect sense to why Nick wouldn't have seen him. To why Nick took one of those flaky girls, the two of them always laughed and joked about. It all made perfectly good sense.

"Is there any way to reverse what is done?" asked Greg solemnly.

"Well," she tugged her shirt collar. "With these extreme forms Greg, no one really knows. It does say that when memories are surprised and supplemented with new false memories is activated, the mind can sometimes tell and when a conflicting thought pattern occur. Many people who have had this condition have reported experiencing sharp incurable headaches. But, that appears to be the only thing medical there. "

"If he were to see me again, wouldn't that jog his memory?"

"I don't know. I don't think so Greg. If the memories are replaced by fake ones, then he might need to know you as a completely different person. He will never recollect you as who you are again. Not without the headaches."

It wasn't what Greg wanted to hear. He wanted to know that there was a chance for them. Damn it, he wanted to know if there was even the slightest possibility for both of them to becoming a couple again. Unfortunately, that hope was quickly fading from his heart and soul.

"There are instances when the thoughts are so strong, that it can be nearly impossible to make them go away completely. In that case I think if he wants to he might be able to force himself to remember."

"It's too late," cried Greg. "He doesn't want to remember anything else. He's perfectly content."

That night was the last entry in his journal that related anything to Nicholas Stokes. That night was the last time he would ever refer to himself as Gregory Stokes. He would now go through the world as Gregory Sanders, a name for which he somehow felt some connection.

--

It was two weeks until the day of his graduation from high school. Nick was downstairs with Adrianna in his lap. Greg saw him a little and noticed how his eyes shut and his hands braced his head from the pain within. He was definitely remembering him, but unable to make the connection. Secretly, he wanted him to fight it and see him. That was now just in his dreams. The Nick he knew was never coming back to him. He was gone forever and Greg knew and understood that.

At school Lily waited there with letters from colleges in her hand all addressed to Greg Sanders (The name he had filled out on the applications.). He took the thirty or so envelopes from her hands and sat down at the cafeteria tables. He took a deep breath before opening every letter.

Harvard: Declined  
Yale: Declined  
Princeton: Accepted  
Duke: Accepted  
Stanford: Accepted  
Oklahoma University: Accepted  
Oklahoma State University: Accepted  
University of North Texas: Accepted  
Texas Tech: Accepted  
Texas A&M: Accepted  
University of Texas at Austin: Accepted  
University of California at Los Angeles: Accepted  
University of California at Berkley: Accepted  
Purdue University: Accepted  
University of Southern California: Accepted  
Oxford: Declined  
Cambridge University: Accepted  
Baylor University: Accepted  
Kansas State University: Accepted  
Michigan State University: Accepted  
New York University: Accepted  
North Carolina State University: Accepted  
Ohio University: Accepted  
Rice University: Accepted

He was very pleased to see he had been widely accepted to several schools of interest. One by one, he sifted through them one by one eliminating those, which didn't have exactly what he wanted. He quickly eliminated all the Texas schools. Now that he and Nick were no longer he and Nick, there was nothing keeping him from leaving the state. One by one, the school's narrowed until he had reached his decision. So, it was decided Greg Sanders was going to attend Stanford University in the fall.

There were only three more days left of high school and Greg like the rest of the seniors spent a good amount of time watching films about stupid unimportant things as they mostly doodled on their paper and built masterful paper airplanes they later intended to set fire to.

"So," Lily plopped down with a silly grin ear to ear. "Sanders, have you decided where you are going to school?"

"Yeah," he answered rather attentively. "I will be going to Stanford University in the fall to study Chemistry. Where are you going?"

"UNT, nothing special," she always did make herself out to be less than what she was. It always bothered Greg, but he never did or said anything about it.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make yourself out to be less than what you are?"

"Because, I'm not as good as you Greg. I mean, you got a four-point-seven GPA on a four-point scale. The only reason why you weren't accepted into Harvard and Yale is because you didn't go to some fancy preparatory school like your ex-boyfriend. Greg, I'm not selling myself short. I know you think I am, but I'm not. I'm just average Greg."

There was no more point in arguing with Lily Knotweed. If she was anything, she was definitely stubborn and hard of head.

--

He popped his head in the living room and saw Nick sitting there with Adrianna. He was always with Adrianna smiling and laughing at the dumbest things. Greg hated it. He hated that Bill had made him out to be so shallow. His hands roamed her body and he enjoyed it. Waiting, Greg took a seat in the living room and casually watched Nick there. He loved Nick and just because Nick couldn't remember that love, it still didn't remove the presence of the love he felt.

Within five minutes of him sitting there, Nick was leaning back with his hands on his head and had popped three aspirin in the mouth. "Fuck," he griped. "What's wrong with me?"

Silently, Greg wanted Nick not to back down. He wanted Nick to push through the pain to see the love he still felt for him. But, he didn't and Greg left, alone for his graduation.

Graduation day was upon him and not a single Stokes was in the audience when Greg walked across the stage. Bill would hear nothing of anyone coming. He could though see the desire in Jillian's eyes to come along. She didn't though, because he realized Bill was behind it. Her hands were tied and Greg knew it.

He just hoping that at least someone that he loved was going to be there to see him get the most coveted award he had received thus far. Nonetheless, he walked across that stage and accepted his diploma with pride in his eyes.

To Be Continued...


	12. Chapter 12

The Once Future King  
Part One: The Boyhood  
Chapter XIII: An Unexpected Surprise  
By: Evenstar  
Rating: PG

The summer passed with little consequence to Greg. For a large portion of his time was spent upstairs looking out the solitary window in his attic room. He sighed watching the sun sink lower to the flat horizon to the west. There were no feelings of good, there were no feelings of bad; there were just a longing desire to just fly away. To fly away sounded like a wonderful idea. Greg would have done anything to sprout wings from his back and just simply fly away.

The sounds of silence nearly deafened him, as his heart grew just that much colder without Nick there. His sweet smooth voice alone was more than enough for Greg not to feel so alone, but now there was no noise at all. He sat in the corner his knees drawn to his chin as he wept in the dark corner of his room.

Loud clunks from heavy work boots sounded on the stairs just before the trapdoor flung open. Greg didn't even bother to look up, for he knew who it was that had entered his room. It was Bill no doubt, to come in and to whip his ass for something he must have been doing wrong.

"Get up boy," commanded the judge. There was no hesitation shown by Greg, as he obediently brought himself to a standing position with his head tilted down. "Come with me."

Silently, Greg followed the man down the rickety stairs to the attic and out of the house right to the car. He didn't ask questions, he just slid into the passenger seat clicked his buckle on and slammed the door shut all without looking at the man who was supposed to be his father.

The engine roared to life and took off down the lonesome highway eastwardly bound to the Metroplex. Greg had never traveled to the D/FW area, and had never seen so many wondrous lights. He was drawn nearly as a moth was drawn to a flame. It mesmerized him in ways one shouldn't be mesmerized. The car stopped in front of a small boutique and Bill instructed him to go out.

"Judge Stokes, what a privilege to see you today," said an odd-looking old man wearing thick spectacles, and a very thin wiry mustache and beard. "What can I help you with?"

"The boy will need clothes. I want you to sculpt for me his entire wardrobe."

"Yes, these rags he's got on surely won't do. Hideous they are, too small hangs wrong, I think we can fix him up."

Bill nudged Greg ever so slightly and he lost the odd expression on his face and followed the elderly man to the back. "Up," commanded the old man taking a measuring tape. "And, take off your hideous clothes."

Greg complied with this and stood there on the platform buck-naked as the man started to measure his body. There was a very odd aura in the air as this man worked around his body measuring and marking on that little tablet, double-checking his work. He hummed some Mozart concerto as he handed him a robe and instructed to return in an hour's time.

Quickly, he redressed and returned to Bill. He said not a word, for there were no words to be shared between these two men. At least none that Greg could think of anyways. He thanked him of course; politeness was something he had learned a long time before. Treading the thin ice that surrounded his stepfather, politeness was something that he learned very well. They spent some time wandering the streets of downtown Dallas. Bill was actually taking the time to point out important buildings and things as the two of them walked silently down the street. They browsed around the Galleria Mall and ate teriyaki chicken in the food court. Never before had Bill shown Greg such kindness. In fact, he might have even passed as his father and Greg a son.

Returning to the small boutique down in the old district of the city, Greg stood there again in nothing but his boxers, watching as this curious man held up color swatches and made yet more notes in that notebook, which now read "Greg Stokes".

"Alright," the old man cleared his throat. "That should do it for now, I will need him tomorrow afternoon for some alterations, and to make sure things are fitting him the way they should, but you are free to go."

It was the strangest experience Greg had ever had. He wanted to ask Bill about it, but no questions meant, no questions and he was deathly afraid to ask. Bill took them to a hotel that was fancy with glitzy lights and extravagant décor scattered about the place. It must have been the most extravagant hotel in the world in Greg's eyes. There was nothing more beautiful and downright gotty. He went to the room on the very top floor in the presidential sweet. For the life of him he never understood why someone would need this much room or things, but he didn't question it. The bed was soft, so much softer than the wood-plank floor for which he normally slept. The strange sounds of the room made it nearly undesirable to him at all.

Then, just then, Lily entered with that smile which Greg had grown all too familiar with. Now, Lily was always a strange person. Then again, Greg couldn't say much, because he wasn't exactly normal himself. However, Lily always did have a crush on him, and never pushed the issue. She'd hang out with him just to be there with him and for her that always seemed good enough. Somewhere within his hardened soul, he felt bad for her. He felt nearly selfish for causing her this distress and yet to know that there can be no future with the two of them together. Though, Greg was perfectly aware she wanted one. Yet, she was still perfectly content to be friends.

Morning came unexpectedly early for Greg as Lily shook droplets of water over his porcelain face. "Get up sleepyhead," she giggled.

"Don' wan' ta," mumbled Greg nearly unintelligible.

"Tough," answered the rather petite chick now pulling the blankets off Greg's slender frame.

"Cold," he shivered.

"It's not THAT cold," answered Lily still not budging. She and Greg were going to go to the mall, they were going to buy things, and there was nothing that Greg could do to stop her. "We'll go to the coffee store," bribed Lily, knowing exactly what button to push.

"Okay," his eyes sprang open and he tore from the bed. If there was something Lily understood about Greg, it was that he never could turn down a good pot of sizzling hot coffee. (The fact it was promised specialty coffee didn't hurt.).

Together they went to the Grapevine Mills mall, by all accounts is more like a theme park with stores than any kind of ordinary mall. They strapped on some inline skates and took a few goes at the half-pipe. They both fell on the last go around and laughed themselves silly as they examined their own bruises. The two of them bought bedding, and shoes of every color and kind. For a while, they even sat in identical leather massage chairs and drifted into an easy nap. When it was time for them to return, the came with so many bags that they both were weighted down like pack mules.

"Enjoy yourself?"

"Yes sir," answered Greg to his stepfather's question.

The next part of the day Greg stood on a platform for the silly-looking old man being clipped by straight pins. It was a tedious few hours doing this with every outfit that Bill was having made for him.

With the last outfit and the last prick of the needle the old man's eyes gleamed as his masterpiece was nearing completion. "Now, I have all your measurements, if you come by once a year or two, I can maintain your numbers and get you your own manikin so you don't have to go through this all the time. You can send your store-bought clothes to me and I will adjust them to fit you perfectly."

The old man handed his business card to Greg who pocketed it without hesitation. "Now, my services are expensive, but the good judge here has decided that this was to be his gift to you for your life time, so he will foot the bill."

"You're what?" Greg's eyes flashed up instantly to Bill's.

"I told you I would explain everything to you at dinner at the end of this week. Right now, enjoy being pampered," answered Bill giving exactly the same answer to all of Greg's questions.

The rest of the week Greg was living a dream it seemed like. He went to SixFlags, Hurricane Harbor, the Omni, the Imax, went to go see the horse races, then to the Nascar truck race, he went to play laser tag, and eat deep fried snicker's bars, and go kart racing at the local place. This week was full of everything for Greg and was such an unexpected turn of events as he actually spent the week doing what most kids his age did.

The end of the week came, and Bill took Greg back to the little boutique to pick up his new set of clothes. He tried everything on and they fit him perfectly like a glove, accentuating his body at the appropriate places and making him look really nice even in casual clothing.

"Remember what I told you about store-bought clothing, always send it to me," chuckled the old man. Bill paid for the new wardrobe of clothes. The price tag sounded quite expensive, but Bill paid it without an argument or a fuss.

To Be Continued...


	13. Chapter 13

The Once Future King  
Part One: The Boyhood  
Chapter XIV: Understandings  
By: Evenstar  
Rating: PG13

--

The dinner Bill insisted upon was a very fancy dinner at one of the glitziest restaurants in town. To Greg it was one of the nicest restaurants in the world and to him the nicest place he had ever seen. He dressed as his stepfather wanted in a black suit, which fit him well and a blue silk tie to match his blue silk vest. He twirled himself around near playfully looking at himself unable or unwilling to believe it was him he was looking at.

However, he was nothing compared to Lily. God, he thought she was gorgeous in the brilliant golden silk dress she wore with her light brown hair in little ringlets around her face. She was beautiful. In Greg's eyes, she represented right then everything elegant.

Bill arrived a short while later wearing a bright smile upon his face. "Shall we?" asked Bill, directing them to the black limo now waiting under the overhang.

Dinner was fabulous. Greg had never dined at such a fine place in his life. Eating wonderful food, having merry conversation with the only family he had known, this must be heaven. This is what he had always dreamed of doing.

Dinner was over and they arrived back at the hotel. Greg walked to the door only to be stopped by Bill before entering.

"Ladies first," mentioned Bill and shut the door behind Lily.

--

Greg flashed him a very confused look, but again asked no questions as he followed Bill up the narrow staircase to the roof. There was two wire chairs placed there with a small table complete with alcoholic beverage. Greg looked at it cautiously, now just barely eighteen and fully aware of the age limits.

"Take a seat kid," Bill patted the seat next to him. Bill poured two glasses of the white wine and handed the second to Greg just after taking a seat.

There was an expression resting upon Bill's face, which Greg had never before seen. It wasn't of joy or happiness, and it certainly wasn't of anger and hate. The stern look he normally got was vanished and gone leaving Greg to wonder even further.

After a large sigh, Bill's sad blue eyes looked ever so lovingly into Greg's.

"Gregory," he started with an uncertain voice. "I am sure you probably hate me for what I did. Frankly, I don't blame you. I know I was an ass to you, but you have to believe me it was all for the best."

He risked a quick glance over to the youngest child within his care. "I was afraid, Gregory. I was afraid for you, and of myself."

Bewilderment hit Greg almost as hard as a ton of bricks being heaved hard into his gut. Such solemn pitiful voice, which Bill Stokes was speaking in, was almost heartbreaking. Greg had never heard such a voice from him, nor with such a placid expression.

"Seventeen years ago, you were left upon my doorstep without even a family to take care of you. All that linked you to your past was the small note attached to your chest. It asked it of me Greg, to take you in as my own, to raise you as my own, and to provide you a room in my house. I loved you Greg, much more than any person should. Up to that point, you have to understand Greg, I was driven by money. I was gloating with greed and I was afraid of myself, because of my want to use you. I promised myself then, that I wouldn't allow myself to do that to you. Not to you, because that day Greg, you chiseled a hole in my heart and I fell in love with you on that day. On that day I took you in I made two promises. One promise I made to Olaf Sanders and one to myself. I promised myself I would not spoil you as if you were my own flesh and blood. I wouldn't dote upon you and treat you special. I was hard on all my sons, in very specialized ways. Do not misunderstand that. I was no harder on Nick than I was on you. The methods may be different, but I was hard on all my sons. To Olaf I promised I would keep you safe and I would keep you secret. I am sorry for having you locked up in that room with virtually nothing. However, I wanted your name to be the last name on the lips of the town. Small town people talk and I most certainly could not have them talking of you. I didn't want you in sports, or anything that would bring undue attention upon yourself. I wanted you to excel in your academics and to make your name for what's between your ears."

"Why Bill? Why go to such extremes as to lock me up for hours on end with nothing to keep me out of the mouths of others? Why Bill?" The anger was nearly tangible in Greg's voice. He was confused, highly, and not understanding of the mistakes of an old man.

"Because, Olaf Sanders made it clear to me that your life was in danger. He made it clear that people of significant power and authority would be tracking you. I took your proper surname away and you were left with no first. I kept you downtrodden to make sure your name never got heard, and it was the only way I knew to do it. Greg, our family is very well known and very well connected. I was scared that if I showed emotion to you. If I gave in to you, I would not have the strength to pull back. I could see me that day Greg, bragging about you to the people in my inner circle. Very dangerous people I walk with Greg, very dangerous and can be bought for the right price for the information they carry. I was not going to let them get the keys to you. Greg, if they knew what I knew, they would have sold you out and gotten the reward off the price of your head."

Bill's voice never wavered during this story. Greg listened intently to every word Bill said and realized just what Bill did for him. Then he began to wonder about something, now that Bill had paused and his eyes fell towards the ground.

"What do you mean the price of my head?"

The sigh from Bill was nearly audible.

"There are things in this world Greg that I do not know. I do not know why there is a price on your head, I just know that there is, and that you are in danger because of it. I do know that you are of a line of men much nobler than myself, and you are the son of KINGS, Greg. You are the last true living heir to the throne of this kingdom."

Greg sat there in disbelief. A king, him, it was nearly unheard of.

"But, I, I can't be a King," he pointed to himself still wide eyed and not understanding.

"You are Greg, you are a king, the true king, and heir to the throne of the Far North Kingdom," informed Bill. "That was why I couldn't sell you out Greg. I couldn't use you for profit, for my own stupid selfish greed. I wasn't going to allow that, and I'm sorry for how I treated you boy. I just, I didn't know what else I could do to distance myself and you."

He paused for just a moment. "I also promised myself that I would not use my reward money on myself. I promised that all the money Olaf promised me would go right back to you. Unto that I held true. Your tuition to Stanford is paid in full, a lifetime supply of clothes, and the new car you will have parked outside the airport waiting for you in San Francisco. Greg, I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. I thought, I thought if I kept you away from people you would be safer. I thought, if you had little personal belongings you would feel less ambitious. I thought if I just kept you downtrodden enough that you would go through life as anonymously as possible. Forgive me, if I was wrong," he stopped his sad eyes gleamed for just a moment longer. The love could be seen now as clear as day. A sight Greg could never recall seeing before today.

There was an honesty in his voice that Greg had heard a few times before. He watched as Bill stood up and left him there thinking about the words still resonating in his head.

--

The morning came and Greg still sat up there watching the sun peak above the horizon and rising high into the morning sky glowing beautiful red. It was not the first sunrise he had seen. However, it was the first one he has seen without Nick in his arms.

"How are you doing?" asked the sweet feminine voice of Lily called from behind. Greg didn't even attempt to lift his head to see her.

There was no answer, because he didn't know if he would ever be okay. The bombshell Bill Stokes laid upon his chest and shoulders was huge. Not only that, the gravity of the situation seemed nearly dire as he emphasized hiding him. During the night, he had made the decision that no one else was to know about his lineage.

"I'm fine," answered Greg standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Was he fine? He doesn't have a clue. He took her hand and walked back down the narrow staircase to find a new luggage set and about four trunks that will be going with him to Stanford.

"Take care of yourself Greg," cooed Bill lovingly and drawing him into a loving bear hug. "I really do love you," said Bill very succinctly and more important sincerely. The glisten in his aqua blue eyes only revealed the truest compassion and deepest of feelings. Greg knew his love was the truth.

The scene at the airport was saddening for Greg as he hugged Lily goodbye and walked mournfully down the long tunnel to the big metal flying device that would fly him across the country. He took his seat and looked over sadly, as one phase of his life was ending and another began.

La Fine


End file.
